


Another One to Take Me Down

by IncandescentAntelope



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: (shh it's a secret but mutual pining), Angst, Jerking Off While Crying is an Olympic Event and Viktor Wins, M/M, Masturbation, Pining, Pining Victor Nikiforov, Smut, sad but hopeful ending, sad wanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-08
Updated: 2020-12-08
Packaged: 2021-03-09 20:54:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,380
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27902551
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IncandescentAntelope/pseuds/IncandescentAntelope
Summary: In the wake of the Sochi banquet, Viktor attempts to sort through his feelings.
Relationships: Katsuki Yuuri/Victor Nikiforov
Comments: 18
Kudos: 103
Collections: YOI Angst Week 2020





	Another One to Take Me Down

**Author's Note:**

> Written for angst week, day two! This is an old WIP (like, spring of 2019 old) that I spruced up for Angst Week! Beta’d by Ace, the lovely mod of this event and alpha’d by Rikichie!

Viktor excused himself before things got too out of control. He had to. Yuuri was too much. He had bit his lip as the drunk Japanese skater rubbed himself against his leg, fighting to keep his hands from touching. Viktor was too weak for that. And Yuuri was far too sweet.

Sweet and drunk and utterly perfect.

Viktor made himself scarce after that, giving himself a lousy excuse to retire to his room. “Too much drinking for one night,” he had told Yakov, ignoring Christophe’s invitation to join him on the dance floor again. He collapsed into his pitifully empty bed, in his cold, empty suite on the fourteenth floor.

His suit was rumpled but the sheets were cold and pristinely made, save for the single dip he himself had made the night before. The bed was a king, just like his bed in Saint Petersburg, and likewise, felt far too big for one body. People had come and gone, warming his bed for the night, for a month, maybe two or three. But none stayed, and none had lit his soul on fire the way Yuuri had.

Viktor felt the cold crawling up from his feet to his chest, that awful sinking sensation he had come to accept. He had won the crown that he had given up so much for— the isolation of the throne was normal by now. Or should have been, at least. 

The voices in the back of his mind nagged regardless, _why didn't you invite him up?_ Viktor’s throat tightened around that ache. He couldn’t pull another into this mess. The regret hung heavily on his shoulders even so, Yuuri had seemed so eager, so bright, so warm… but he was drunk, irresponsibly so. Viktor couldn't take advantage of him like that. 

God above did that man make his heart throb. Those dark brown eyes sparkled like faceted tourmaline, his cheeks and throat flushed with drink. Yuuri’s laugh felt like bubbling champagne in Viktor’s ears as they danced, his silly, conspiratorial plotting to sneak more drinks from the bar had Viktor grinning from ear to ear. 

His touch had stolen the breath from Viktor’s lungs. One hand splayed over the plane of his lower stomach, tender but demanding, setting a dominating hand on the small of his back, the other cupping the base of his skull. 

It took his breath away even now, sitting alone in his hotel room, watching snow swirl outside in the dark Sochi night. 

_The way he was holding me… Yuuri, do you really want me?_

Tears pricked at his eyes as he unzipped his fly, the cool air of his hotel room stinging his heated, swollen flesh. He wished for anything; that he would have made his move, or that Yuuri hadn’t been so drunk, that he had caught him before he downed sixteen flutes of champagne, _before_ pounding half a bottle during that damned dance-off... 

"God, _fuck_ , Yuuri..." Viktor felt his throat tightening up as he rolled his hardening length in his hand.

" _Biktoruuuuu..._ " that soft sound rang in his ear, the bright shining eyes that gleamed up at him, the memory accompanied by a soft moan. " _Be my coach, Viktor!"_

 _Why didn't you at least give him your number?_ Viktor groaned as he bucked into his own furled fist at the memory of his voice, slurred and wet with champagne. "Yuuri..."

An image formed behind his closed eyes— sloppy knocking at his hotel room door, messy mumbling on the other side. Opening the door, he found Yuuri, holding himself up against the frame, giggling and blushing. 

_"Found you, Viktor!"_ he said, leaning heavily against his chest. 

"Yuuri…” he moaned, his hips almost lifting off the bed as he fucked into his hand harder.

" _Viktoru, can I help you with that?"_ Yuuri's voice floated into his ear as his eyes rolled back at that giggling lilt that felt like fire in his veins.

"Yes, Yuuuuuri-" Viktor moaned as his hand picked up speed, imagining Yuuri's hand loosely wrapped around him, the heat of those amber eyes coiling heavy and thick in his stomach. "Yuuri, oh, god _yes,_ just like that!" he hissed through gritted teeth, imagining that it was Yuuri flicking his thumb over his leaking slit, it was him spreading precome along his length with every salacious stroke, it was his teeth tugging on his lower lip. 

Viktor scrambled out of his crumpled suit trousers and tight black briefs and messily pumped way too much lotion onto his free hand. He groaned as one finger pressed through the tight ring of muscle at his entrance, tears squeezed through tightly shut eyes as he imagined Yuuri being the one to stretch him, fill him with "more, more, more, more, _Yuuri…”_

 _"Viktoru's so tight, feels really nice ..."_ the Yuuri in his mind giggled as a second finger slid in with the first. 

"Oh god, yes," Viktor moaned into the mattress as he scissored his fingers, curling against his prostate and coaxing his body to relax. That slurring voice murmured encouragement as he inched another finger past his bullied rim. 

It had felt like a high, dancing with him, feeling the heat of his body pressed against his own, and the adorable and blisteringly hot way he had ground himself against Viktor's leg... he wanted Yuuri, wanted him so bad, needed Yuuri around him and inside him. He wanted to breathe the scent of Yuuri's cologne nearly drowned in champagne, just one more time.

Long fingers brushed over Viktor's prostate and he nearly screamed, panting and bucking into his fist with a shaky sob. "Fuck me, Yuuri, _please!_ "

Viktor's fingers pushed against that spot in an almost brutal pace and his hips twisted and bucked as he fucked himself harder. It could have easily been Yuuri's cock pounding into him, god knows he had seen enough during his ‘dance-off’. He clenched around his fingers at the very thought of that cock, thick and hard and _inside him_. 

" _Viktoru, is that good_?" That honey-and-champagne voice purred in his mind and Viktor gasped desperately, his arousal pitching higher and higher.

"Oh god, yes!” Viktor sobbed, his body trembling. “Close, I'm so close, Yuuri, don't stop, _Yuuri!"_ Viktor cried as that coil snapped, gasping as he fucked himself through his orgasm. His muscles fluttered around his own fingers, his chest heaved as he came down. "Yuuri..." He whimpered, his cheeks wet and eyes red. He winced as he pulled his fingers free, swallowing against his dry throat. Viktor cast a glance over his shoulder, and despite himself, felt empty when Yuuri wasn't there. Of course he wasn’t there. 

He shrugged out of his rumpled banquet attire, leaving it on the floor for a more sober Viktor to manage. The tears fell freely as he stepped under the shower spray, and that voice still didn't relent. Yuuri's soft voice echoed his name, refusing to give him any reprieve. He knew it was his imagination, it had to be... but it sounded like that voice floated through the walls themselves.

“ _Biiiiiktoruuu~”_

The sound was clearer then, and Viktor’s heart leapt into his throat. He quickly shut off the water and pressed his ear against the cold tile, his heartbeat almost drowning out the sounds coming from the room next door. 

" _Yeah, yeah. Take it easy, kiddo_." Viktor almost backed away from the wall when he heard Cialdini's voice gently scolding a muttering, babbling Yuuri. " _Now, get in the shower, maybe that'll sober you up a little."_

“ _Don't wanna be sober!"_ Viktor's heart skipped as Yuuri's voice suddenly sounded closer. He was hiccupping and giggly, and it made Viktor’s chest ache. _"Wanna dance with Viktor!"_

“ _Yes, you made that perfectly clear downstairs. Now clean yourself up."_ Viktor slumped against the wall, his forehead pressed against the wet tile. Yuuri was barely an inch away from him. Yuuri was probably naked by now, judging from the slight hiss of water. Naked and wet. And he was saying he wanted to be with him… but Yuuri was drunk, and Viktor couldn’t do that, Yuuri couldn’t consent. 

He didn’t want Yuuri to forget. If he was ever lucky enough to spend a night in Yuuri’s bed.

"I want that too, Yuuri." he whispered with a sigh. “Don’t forget me.”

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading, I hope you all have a lovely sad wank. 
> 
> <3 ia  
> [ Twitter](https://twitter.com/ia_theauthor) | [Tumblr](https://incandescentantelope.tumblr.com)


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